“Don’t get up on my account, darlin’.”
I reacquainted my butt with the cushioned chair and looked toward the man who would be Dad’s roommate.
He was relatively tall with short grey hair and a big bushy mustache, and he was wearing a plain T-shirt tucked into a well-worn pair of Wranglers. At first glance, he seemed several years older than Dad, but in good physical health.
In short, he looked like the TV dad in every drama about ranches, horses, or mountains that had ever aired.
I’d bet money I didn’t have that he was wearing scuffed boots.
But really, it was the flannel behind him that begged for my attention and had my mouth parting in a silent gasp when I looked its way.
Him.
The man from yesterday.
Nurse Emily interrupted my view of him when she hurried over and pulled out a chair for him. “Here, let me help you,” she said with a sweet, bright smile.
There was no better representation of the differences between us.
She helped him into a chair. I’d made him fall.
Or, at least, I didn’tkeephim from falling, though I did jam that crutch under his arm… and then bailed without seeing if he needed more help or if he was hurt.
Ugh.
He sat down carefully, color rising on his cheeks as he thanked her. He was wearing glasses today, and I was taking them in when his gaze flicked down her legs, which were covered in soft pink scrubs.
He frowned and looked away from them, seeking me out next, as if he sensed I was watching, but then Director Links cleared her throat, and I looked down at my lap.
“Shall we get started?”
We all mumbled our agreements, the awkwardness in the room palpable. Dad dropped an intricately folded piece of paper onto my lap, and I glanced up at him with a questioning frown.
He just smiled at me, but there was something sad in his eyes I didn’t understand. “For a sad song and a rainy day, Dancing Queen,” he murmured.
“Now that we’re all seated, allow me to make introductions,” Director Links started, taking control of the room.
I slipped the note into my pocket and focused on the meeting.
Director Links inclined her head at me and Dad in that professional way of hers. “This is Mr. Sewell and his daughter, Miss Sewell.”
The older man across from us nodded in acknowledgement.His eyes skirted over Dad briefly, but his expression was completely neutral, not seeming at all bothered that Dad hadn’t even glanced up at the introduction.
“And, as you’ve probably guessed,” Director Links continued, also unbothered, “This is Mr. Smith.” She paused as she looked at flannel guy for a second, then glanced at her tablet. “I’m sorry, sir, can you remind me of your name?”
Nurse Emily, who had taken a seat at the table, leaned forward in anticipation of his answer, her hands clasped in front of her. I bet they were sticky from that orange.
Blinking at the stray thought, I frowned as I realized I’d leaned forward, too, then subtly sat back in my chair. Flannel guy smiled almost shyly at Director Links, and my gaze was drawn to the divot in his chin covered by a light scruff.
“Adair Jacks,” he said, still smiling softly, his voice deeper than I remembered.
“Adair,” Director Links repeated, and I swore I heard Nurse Emily sigh dreamily.
She should probably go wash her hands.
Dad tucked his hair behind his ear and finally looked up at Mr. Smith. “And who are you?”
My gaze, which had been drifting back to flannel guy—Adair—snapped to Mr. Smith.
